


Crybaby x Problem Child

by ZevakRitpel



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Angst and Humor, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Explicit Language, Hate to Love, Loan Shark AU, M/M, Sexual Content, Slow Romance, but please do not be deceived the spicy times will not be so slow, will update tags with updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 16:43:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12280443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZevakRitpel/pseuds/ZevakRitpel
Summary: Adult Au, Yakuza/Loan Shark Au.Local debt collector, Haizaki "I do what I want; I take what I want" Shougo, learns that sometimes, the thing that he wants can... take him (on).Local yakuza, Kise "I never forget to return a favour"....does not, in fact, forget to return a favour.





	1. "The Stray Dog" vs "The "Bitch"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it is I, ur friendly neighbourhood gremlin, holding out my haikise/kizaki out in trembling grembling hands hoping u will take a sample to enjoy. ლ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ლ)
> 
> This is a revised version of a fic intro i posted on tumblr 12 gorillion years ago in may. i've been working slowly but surely on the following chapters. i think about these two a lot.
> 
> this piece is not meant to be an accurate representation of crime or debt collectors or anything. it's just a sometimes fun, sometimes sticky, sometimes painful, always catty romance with a bit of a gritty backdrop. 
> 
> this is my own version of kise x haizaki i really really hope you can have fun with it!
> 
> (btw just in case, it's not prominent yet so i didn't tag but niji x himu definitely contains a subtle presence in this here fic. also more things will be tagged so if ur staring at my ugly af tags like what's going on here on this day, i can answer with confidence that i'm doing my best)

**[Friday. 10:13. Hostile Work Environment.]**

 

"If I want it, I take it. Mine."

Such is the charming personal philosophy of Haizaki Shougo-kun, who recklessly lives life doing whatever the fuck he wants , whenever the fuck he wants. His words.

Indeed, each night the notoriously ill-mannered-- albeit troubled-- young debt collector revels in debauchery: drinking, gambling, fighting, _fucking_ , just being a general menace...and all this with no consideration to the consequences. And ya know what? It’s fucking great.

Or at least it should be. But lately…

~~Nothing feels satisfying anymore.~~

Haizaki clicks his tongue impatiently--this is  so stupid. He's not seriously about to "introspect" or whatever on this pointless shit.

He tilts his chair back so that it balances precariously on two legs, then props his feet up on the bossman's office desk, kicking some papers off in the process. It absolutely does not occur to him pick them up.

Bored waiting for the bossman to show up, Haizaki lolls his head back and glances over at his "coworker", Himuro Tatsuya. He's been sitting in that corner since Haizaki arrived: hood up, head bowed, wordlessly staring at his phone...oh shit, he actually might be asleep? Kinda hard to tell, since the guy barely ever moves his facial muscles.

Tch. What a dull plaything.

Haizaki rocks back even farther in his unstable chair, absently fiddling with the rings adorning his lightly scraped fingers. He's got eleven in total: simple iron bands around his thumbs , a sterling silver ring in the shape of a snake coiled around his index finger, and both his middle and ring fingers decorated with two sets each with tiny spikes, just in case he needs to throw an extra bloody punch.

Unfortunately, Haizaki's jewelry can only entertain him for so long. Like, five minutes tops. He sighs loudly and considers getting a rise out of Tatsuya...ehh, but that would take way too much effort--despite Himuro's short fuse and massive violent streak, it's pretty difficult to get an expression out of that dollface. Nah, these days it would take the bossman to get involved, and he's not even here---

 **BAM**.

Nevermind. Speak of the devil...the actual devil…

"WHERE!!!"

Nijimura snaps, making a characteristically violent entrance as he kicks open his poor, poor office door, slamming it hard enough into the wall to rattle the office desk from force of impact. As a result, the remaining papers flutter off the desk top, onto the floor.

"WHERE THE _FUCK_ is that bastard Hara?! He's a week overdue with his payments, at this rate I'll be pulling the interest out of his goddamn asshole."

The formidable loan shark,  Nijimura "bossman" Shuzo, appears to be a touch more...irritable than usual. His thin shades have slipped down the bridge of his nose, revealing a pair of alarmingly bloodshot eyes; his black bangs, normally slicked back, hang limply over his forehead. All-nighter?

Unfazed by his boss's morning rage, Haizaki raises a hand up lazily in greeting, grinning slightly as he brings his other hand up to his mouth. He flicks his tongue just above the metal band around his right thumb.

"What, ya didn't hear? That Hara fuck killed himself just last night." Not entirely true, but Haizaki's been dying to push _someone's_ buttons. Even at the cost of his own well-being.

"He _what_."

Before Haizaki can milk this priceless reaction, Tatsuya (so he _was_ awake. tch.) cuts in (ever the killjoy) with a cool monotone:

"Police report says a body matching Hara's description was found in Tokyo Bay early this morning. Riddled with bullets... And his hands cut off."

Nijimura removes his sunglasses and slides his steel grey eyes back to Haizaki, staring at his subordinate with a look completely void of patience.

"Accomplished all that by himself, did he?"

Haizaki shrugs.

"What? You already knew that fucking idiot was tryin' to screw over Akashi, of all people. Pretty much suicide, right."

" _Not_ how that works" Nijimura hisses, pressing his fingers against his temples. He steps over the mess of papers scattered on the floor as he approaches Haizaki's chair. The fronts of his loafers are spattered with rather distinct reddish-brown  stains.

"Uhhh, I think you'll find that's exactly how it work-AH FUCK."

Haizaki finds himself very painfully reminded of why trolling Nijimura is a bad idea, especially when the bossman is within kicking distance of his chair. And so Shougo-kun lies there, on the floor, for a few seconds, seriously reflecting for once in his life.

"Whatever," Nijimura exhales, looking much calmer; it would seem that keeping Haizaki's uncouth ass in line is somewhat cathartic. He adjusts the cuffs of his mauve button down shirt and places his sunglasses back over his face.

"Since that shithead actually had the audacity to get killed off by those pricks in the Akashi-gumi before paying his dues, so help me _God_ I will reach into the pits of hell and get back every single yen owed me."

Nijimura reaches down and grabs Haizaki by the cuff of his bomber jacket, forcefully pulling him back up to his feet with little effort.

"But first, you and I are going to his apartment before it's crawling with pigs...Tatsuya,"

Nijimura's manner of speaking abruptly becomes much gentler. He flicks his tongue over his lips before continuing.

"You're okay here on your own? All the other guys are out, so you're the only one I can ask."

Himuro smiles demurely and nods yes in response. Oh for the love of-

"What the fuck, why does the wife get to stay behind? Fuckin' typical." Haizaki complains, earning himself a smack in the back of the already-possibly-probably-concussed head.

"Owww, fine, fine okay fuck I get it. Let's go see if Hara has a secret lovechild we can extort or whatever."

As Haizaki (obediently, but grudgingly) follows Nijimura out the door, he feels the need to disturb juuuust one more shit, ya know, for the road..

He makes a detour to the "doll's" side of the room and throws an arm around Himuro's shoulders. As expected, Tatsuya instantly reacts with violence. But before he can get a hit in, Haizaki swiftly slides his hand down and pulls out a cigarette from the pack tucked in Tatsuya's pants' pocket, then lightly steps back to safety.

Himuro turns his head and glares at Haizaki with his unobscured right eye. Haizaki winks as he skips back, towards the exit, slipping the stolen smoke between his lips.

"See ya later, _ane-san_ " he salutes with two fingers.

Himuro sees him off with a stoically raised middle finger. Hahaha. So not cute.

Outside, the sky is grey. A gentle breeze is blowing the taste of pollution through the air; somewhere, nearby, a crow is screeching. Haizaki throws his arms up for a quick stretch.

He'll be able to shake this gross, deep feeling of restlessness curdling under his skin, right? Soon enough, no problem.

"Oi, Haizaki," Nijimura calls out, shoving his hands in his coat pockets and rummaging for his car keys.

"Don't antagonize him so much."

"....haha do you really need to be so overprotective? Gross."

Nijimura purses his lips, unlocking the door to his large silver sedan. Time to get going.

 

***

**[Friday. 11:34. E-eh? What's This Feeling?!]**

 

"Oi, oi, oi, what the _fuck_ is **_this_ **?!"

Nijimura slams his foot on the breaks of his car, and the subsequent inertia from this sudden move results in Haizaki's entire body jerking towards the windshield. Before Haizaki can open his mouth to bitch about this, he finds his boss has already flown out of the vehicle, bee-lining towards whatever he means by **_'this'_ **.

Disgruntled, Haizaki rubs the back of his neck, craning his head to the side to test for any damage. Today's injuries are really piling up, and it's not even noon yet. He squints out the car window to see **'** **_this_ ** **'** for himself.

Standing by the entrance to Hara's sketchy-ass apartment complex, are two sharply-dressed individuals:

To the left, turning to greet the fast-approaching Nijimura, is that... pink peach woman....uhhhhhh.....Momoi Satsuki. Ya know, the one with the huge tits, and she's got dirt on pretty much everyone in the damn city. Hot but creepy.

She's wearing a white blouse today, and her rosy hair is pulled up in a sleek bun, revealing a sliver of tattoo that reaches all the way up to her nape. But Haizaki isn’t interested in that right now. No, no, off to Satsuki's right, is an even more familiar face.

Haizaki sits up straight,  instantly forgetting his pain. The corner of his mouth twitches: so _he's_ here too, huh. Well, well, fucking well.

The debt collector takes a moment to loosen his shirt collar, then pulls a gun from inside the car's glove compartment and tucks into his waistband before following the path of his superior, to the front of Hara's building.

A dialogue has already started.

"Now,  Nijimura-san, we're here on behalf of Kuro-"

"Yeah, yeah, I can already tell what Akashi's wakagashira is up to here. So if you two could kindly turn back and tell your fucking boss to resurrect that useless Hara bastard so I can get my money back, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Satsuki giggles at Nijimura's blatant vehemence and takes a drag of the menthol between her delicate fingers, her rosey eyes sparkling knowingly. She proceeds to say something sinister in honeyed tones, but the nature of the rest of the exchange is lost to Haizaki.

After all, from the moment he arrived, Haizaki’s only had eyes for one person.

"Ryouta~," he hisses, pushing towards the man standing off to the side.

"So you're here, too. I thought I smelled a _bitch_."

Kise Ryouta's golden eyes narrow with unmasked disgust as they follow Haizaki's approach.

"Very good, Shougo-kun!" the young yakuza chirps sweetly, clasping his gloved hands together in mock-praise. The temperature behind his false smile is around -40 degrees of freezing spite.

"As expected of Nijimura-san's stray _dog_. Such a keen nose you have, it's no wonder your master keeps you on such a short leash."

The corners of Haizaki's mouth twitch up. He grabs Kise roughly by the collar, pulling him in close.

Fake ass pretty boy piece of shit gangster.....nothing would please Haizaki more than tearing this bitch down from his high fucking horse and distorting that pretentious, mocking face....

See, due to the nature of their respective jobs, Haizaki and Kise run into each other a little too much for comfort. An occupational hazard of working in underground business. And even though Ryouta's a real piece of work, everyone's convinced he's some kind of angel.

Which is so. Damn. Annoying.

"Taking a break from blowing half the Akashi-gumi, are ya?" Haizaki grins, teeth bared.His eyes narrow, carefully gauging Kise's reaction.

....Which is to curl his pale fingers around Haizaki's wrist and squeeze. Hard.

Owww…

"Try not to get too close, Shougo-kun," Ryouta murmurs in a low, sugary voice, but contrary to his own words, leans in closer, so that their faces are only a few inches apart.

"Son of a ...."Haizaki almost recoils in pain as Kise slowly digs his  nails deeper into his skin. This little bitch!

"I see you're still untrained. I don't want to have to go in for a rabies shot; Midorimacchi has enough on his plate."

Haizaki hesitates; an equally venemous retort to this insult isn’t coming to mind. The reason behind this momentary blank surely has _nothing_ to do with the sudden increase in Haizaki’s sensitivity now that Kise Ryouta is so….very close.

Nope. Haizaki can’t feel the heat coming from Ryouta’s slightly smaller frame, or see how soft those lips look from this short distance …..and …he definitely can’t smell the faint scent of cologne on Ryouta’s pale neck…...

Wait.

Wait, hold on.

What.

"Ahahahaha, you  really wanna die, huh?" Haizaki laughs harshly, desperately trying to regain his senses, and shoves Kise hard into the wall of the apartment complex. Whatever the fuck is happening is very clearly a sign that Haizaki should start a fight, right now, immediately. Foolproof.

The look on Ryouta's face suggests that he's on the same page. Good. Prepare to get fucked up, pretty boy. Nothing's gonna get in the way of this throwdown. Nothing at all--

" _Haizaki_ " Nijimura calls out in a warning tone, while at the exact same time, Momoi chimes in with a:

"Ki-chan, play nice!"

Both Haizaki and Kise freeze, only just now remembering that their respective superiors have been standing right there, the entire time.

The "bitch" and the "stray" exchange a brief glance, then push away from each other.

Tch. This is far from over.

 

*** 


	2. Kaijo vs Fukuda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jdgkjdfhjgdkh posts this here and goes into hiding for the next decade.
> 
> mmmmWARNING: i hope y'all like filthy hateful backalley blowjobs.....

**[Saturday--next. 11:58. Round II.]**

 

The bruised imprints on Haizaki’s wrist take over a week to fade away.

That’s over a week of built up frustrations  over the dark, reddish reminders of Kise Ryouta’s insolent bitch hands, every time Haizaki does anything basic like check the time or wash his hands or throw a punch.

Whatever, he’ll get his own. Not that Haizaki has a plan or anything for getting back, especially not right now. He’s about eight glasses of shochu deep into the night, and _really_ starting to feel it.

Specifically, in his bladder. Fuck.

Without excusing himself, Haizaki tears himself out from under the clinging arms of whatever random drunk chick he was just half-assedly hitting on, and pushes in through the thick crowd of the bar.

Bathroom lineup has gotta be stupid long; better just take care of business outside.

Haizaki stumbles out the entrance of the building, shoving past some couple smoking by the front. Maybe they say something to him, who knows, doesn’t matter, fuck ‘em.

Off to the side of the bar is a small, dark alley littered with debris. Unfortunately occupied, as there seems to be a bit of a ….”commotion” happening a little farther back, but Haizaki’s not about to a let a two…oh shit, no, three-on-one fight stop him from relieving his crippling need to piss.

He staggers over next to an overflowing dumpster, humming the tune to the opening of that Chinese soap bossman has been into lately. Over his song, the “commotion” behind him seems to be escalating nicely: a particularly painful crunch, followed by a stifled groan sounds through the night.

Haizaki giggles, kicking aside a crushed beer, and clinks his belt open. Gotta love the sound of someone else’s misfortune.

Now, as he empties an absurd amount of liquid from his body, Haizaki makes the mistake of dropping his guard. After finishing, his hands are halfway to adjusting himself, when a voice chirps from behind him, unexpectedly:

 “Heyyyyy there, pissing-nii-chan~,”

Haizaki freezes on the spot, hands still. His wrist throbs, inexplicably.

“Do you mind giving us a little privacy? It’ll only take-“

Shougo flips his head around so hard his neck bones crack.

“Eh……?”

“……eh?”

An awkward silence falls upon the dirty back alley.

Haizaki stares at Kise Ryouta, who happens to be crushing a fallen man’s arm under his heel, while holding another man in a death grip by the throat; Kise stares at Haizaki Shougo, whose hand is down his pants, fly totally open.

“What….the fuck are you doing here?” Haizaki mutters, the question coming out less confrontational and more genuinely confused than he intends. Any shred of tipsiness he’s felt before this moment drains away instantly.

Ryouta blinks, also at a loss.

 “….Kurokocchi owns this club….”

Of _fucking_ course he does. Is there no limit to the reach of Akashi clan?

“….there was some trouble, so I was just….taking out the trash…”

Haizaki snorts in spite of himself.

But there’s something off…Haizaki flicks his eyes over to the two men in Ryouta’s hold: the baldy on the ground and the pinstripe suit standing up. They don’t look like your average hooligans causing a ruckus at the bar.

No, that’s not the problem.  It’s that they’re suddenly ….weirdly docile. Sure, they’re clearly getting their asses handed to them, but during this whole exchange, they haven’t been fighting back at all.

Haizaki squints, refocusing his vision. What’re they looking at--

Oh fuck, that’s right. There was a third guy, wasn’t there.

 “Oi, look…” Haizaki extends his arm out towards Ryouta, who recoils immediately.

 “Eh? Eh EH?! Gross, Shougo-kun, stay away, your hands are –“

“I’m saying to LOOK OUT,” Haizaki snaps, taking three quick steps forward and ramming his forehead right into Ryouta’s.

The force of impact causes Kise’s head to jerk back, effectively crushing the nose of the third guy, who had snuck up behind him, ready for a surprise attack.

The third guy topples back easily; Ryouta…..doesn’t.

He recover so fast, in fact, that Haizaki has no time to prepare himself as Ryouta,  without missing a fucking beat, flings poor Pinstripes as hard as he can into Haizaki, slamming them both into the wall of the club.

The wind knocks out of Haizaki’s lungs and he collapses, back scraping against rough bricks. Still, the animal instincts of Nijimura Shuzo’s “mad dog” should not be taken lightly, as Haizaki is able to grab Pinstripes and move him to break his fall. Once on the ground, the loan shark rams his elbow into Pinstripes’ solar plexus, rendering him immobile.

Still a little breathless, Haizaki sits up, using the half-conscious body beneath him for leverage. A stream of warm blood trickles down his forehead, onto his face, almost definitely a result of the headbutt.

“What the fuck-?!“ Haizaki growls hoarsely, but his voice breaks off. Ryouta already has his back turned to him, crouched down to the level of Baldy and Third Guy. He’s speaking to them in a low voice, so Haizaki can’t make out the words.

Whatever he says is effective enough to inspire a tactical retreat. Still glaring, they slowly pick themselves up and limp over to Haizaki, whose body sets back into fight mode until he realizes they’re just here to retrieve Pinstripes. They pay Haizaki no mind, just drape their fallen comrade over Third Guy’s back and slink away into the night.

As the trio leaves, Ryouta rises and brushes his scuffed suit pants. He tilts his head to the side, staring into space, thinking hard. The top few buttons of his white-collared shirt are undone, revealing a slight gash running down his exposed neck. He absently brushes the wound with his thumb.

Something about the contrast of deep red on the pale skin of his neck is….

Nevermind.

Haizaki spits onto the ground.

“Oi, is that okay? Just letting them run off like that…Won’t your boss want to know about people causin’ problems on his turf? ” he says loudly, squeezing his right eye shut to avoid getting blood in it.

“Kurokocchi doesn’t need to know about this.” Kise replies, eyes still unfocused and his tone distant, as if he’s talking more to himself than to Haizaki.

“I can take care of it.”

This is…..seriously fucking annoying.

“Ahhh, is that so,” Haizaki sneers, irritation swelling in his chest. What’s up with this attitude, like he’s carrying a fuckin’ burden or something.

“You can’t get any recognition from your precious wakagashira like that, ya know, Ryouta~”

It’s just a wild guess, so Haizaki doesn’t quite hit bullseye. However, he still seems to hit _something_.

It’s hard to tell, with shadows falling over his face, but Kise flares very slightly at Haizaki’s words. Calmly, he walks over to where Haizaki is still sitting with his back against the wall, and nods his head.

“You sure you wanna talk about recognition with your fly open like that, _Shougo-kun_?”

He reaches his leg out, pressing the heel of his tan ankle boots against Haizaki’s upper thigh, pushing so that his crotch is even more exposed.

Ordinarily, this kind of shit would rise up a violent reaction from Haizaki, but he must have really hurt his fucking head earlier since right now he’s having a ….completely different kind of “rising” reaction….

What the fuck. Betrayed, by his own loins.

 “Oh……really? I knew Shougo-kun was a dog, but I didn’t think you’d get like this over a little violence.”

Burning heat crawls up Haizaki’s neck, and between his legs, and running through his veins. He stares up at Ryouta, who’s staring back down at him with a cold, mocking smile.

Haizaki can’t think straight, his body won’t listen to him, there’s only one thing left, and that’s to do what he does best:

Talk shit.

“Then, why don’t you take care of it for me?”

 Kise blinks.

“Hah?”

“You know you owe me for saving your ass back there,” Haizaki says, his voice bubbling over with derisive laughter. Ahhh, this is fucked up, but he’s so humiliated right now there’s really nothing to lose. If he can rile up Ryouta enough to break his composure, then it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine…

“Excuse me?!”

“Not to mention, you’re getting all lonely ‘cause your boss won’t give you the time of day, right? Ah—no need to get so upset, if it’s not true,” Haizaki shrugs, well aware that more adrenaline is coursing through him than during the scuffle mere moments before.

 Haizaki wants to _see_ his expression. What kind of face will he make now..

“So basically I’d be doing you a favour, but I guess-“

“Sure.”

Huh?

Ryouta’s golden eyes seem to glow under the chilling pale light of the moon.

“Wh-“

Kise releases his hold on Haizaki’s thigh and scuffs aside some scattered shards of glass, so that he may kneel down.

Oi oi oi oi oi oi oi oi oi oi oi. This bastard—is he fucking serious?

“Aha…What the hell, so you really are a bitch? You know I was just fucking wi-“

“Shut up.” Ryouta’s cold voice cuts over Haizaki in a command that surprisingly, infuriatingly, pushes all of Haizaki’s words back down his throat. He shifts his eyes away, focusing instead on the pink swelling on Kise’s forehead from earlier.

“So inconsistent, Shougo-kun. But if you’re going to keep running your mouth, I have no problem putting you back in your place.”

The yakuza lowers himself between Haizaki’s legs, using his teeth to peel back the band of Haizaki’s boxer briefs. His breath is warm; his soft blonde hair tickles against Haizaki’s skin.

“My hands are all bloody, so I’m sure you won’t mind if I just use my mouth,” he murmurs in honeyed tones, muffled by the cloth against his lips.

An act of submission. This kind of thing is supposed to be an act of submission, right? Haizaki’s finally got Ryouta on his knees, just where he belongs.

So why…does it feel like their positions are completely reversed?

Ryouta slides his tongue along the length of Haizaki’s shaft, pauses with his lips pouting against the head, then relaxes and takes the whole dick in, rubbing it with the inside of his throat. The yakuza gags a little in the process, but doesn’t stop.

“You’re….fucking kidding m-me…” Haizaki hisses, grabbing a fistful of Ryouta’s hair. He’s not sure if he’s resisting the urge to pull his head back or push it down, but either way this is fucking brutal.

Why..why is he doing this? Is it normal to blow a guy you don’t like just to shut him up???

Or is this about something else. Becau-

“nnn!”

Haizaki twitches as Ryouta takes a break from deep-throating him to lick the base of his cock, a sensation Haizaki never knew could be so agonizing. Where did this bastard learn this shit anyways??

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip to stop himself from making any more noises, but at the rate this is going…

“You really hate me, don’t you, Shougo-kun,”  Kise hums, rolling his tongue around the tip of Haizaki’s cock, warm saliva and precum dripping down his lips.

He knows full well that Haizaki can’t reply without his voice breaking. Haizaki can hear a soft snicker before Ryouta takes him into his mouth once more.

Just another minute.

“That’s okay. I hate you too.”

And just like that, Haizaki shudders, grinding one fist into the filthy pavement, the other hand grasping Ryouta’s hair, hard.

No fucking way.

Ryouta sits up, smacking Haizaki’s hand away. He spits out a mouthful of semen unceremoniously to the side, then turns back to Haizaki, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the effort, but otherwise his face is still wearing that annoying arrogant expression.

“Thanks for that, Shougo-kun. Next time I’ll be sure to return the ‘favour’.”

***

Current tally

Ryouta: 2

Shougo-kun: 0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i.....hope you guys had some fun with that assjhkjshkajhs. it took me an excruciatingly long time to write it, i think i rewrote that first line about 17 million times HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HOPE THE WHOLE HOT MESS WAS OK
> 
> next chapter will be kise's point of view !!! so there's that!!!!
> 
> thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story, i love and cherish each one of u individually (sobs)


	3. Man vs Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zdthrgkhjldkrgkh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it's me the slowest-writing goblin in the entire universe here with a lil bit of chapter update for u all
> 
> finally found some energy to complete this update. it's a bit rough, but i hope you can enjoy it anyways ^_^
> 
> thanks to ur patience i truly and dearly love every single one of u that puts up with my bs

Kise Ryouta’s, uhh, preferred methods of stress relief include, but are not limited to:

 Pushing his body past its limits to achieve his goals

  * Cruelly but efficiently disposing of “problems”  that threaten the Group
  * Sex



 Not exactly uncommon in his line of work. Overwork and violence, in particular, are just part of the job. Three birds; one stone.

 Point three is the real issue. Kise, _obviously_ , has no lack of willing bed partners, but things always seem to get real troublesome, real fast. What with his distaste for being ‘tied down’ or committed to anything but his job, and his equally frightening sadistic and masochist streaks...anyways, it’s a lot more difficult to really get off than you would think.

 And so, sometimes Kise has to resort to less conventional outlets. Like, say, impulsively blowing an impudent debt collector behind a club and curb-stomping his pride.

 Kise pulls his fingers through his bangs, sighing wearily. Aw, jeez. What a mess.

 The worst part is, he can’t deny that the sensation of crushing Shougo-kun’s hubris and getting him to shut his stupid brazen mouth felt fucking good. So good, in fact, he’s still shivering from the thrill. That, and the high tier piece of equipment Shougo-kun has between his legs….

 To think that useless delinquent could make for such a delicious chew toy.

 Uwaa...Kise is scaring himself. Whatever, he doubts Shougo-kun will come looking for more humiliation after _that_ , and good riddance.They won’t meet anymore, nothing to regret.

 More importantly, Kise is LATE. He’s been so caught up with back alley adventures, he’d  completely forgotten about the executive meeting scheduled for fifteen minutes ago. So now he’s sprinting up the stairs to the 4th floor of this Akashi-gumi-owned building, three at a time No time for idle elevator stress, no ma’am.

 He finally reaches the office meeting room, bursting through the door with a breathless “I’m home~”

 The room, of course, is already occupied, with a pretty formidable lineup: big boss oyabun Akashi Seijuro way at the back, his bodyguard Mibuchi Reo at his side; second-in-command Kuroko Tetsuya sitting near the entrance, sandwiched between upper executive Momoi Satsuki and corrupt chief of police Aomine Daiki. The whole gang’s here, huh…..

 “Oh, Kise-kun.” Kurokocchi says in his usual cool monotone, looking as cute as always in his little suit vest and white button up shirt. KYAH.

 Kise beams, waving in greeting, winking at Momoicchi as he slips into the empty seat to her right. But the radiant feeling caused by Kuroko Tetsuya’s mere presence is short-lived.

 “You’re late,”

So says Akashicchi. His head is lowered, as he’s looking down at some papers on his desk, but there’s no doubt --

 “Ryouta.”

 There it is. Only _that_ Akashicchi calls him by his first name. Of course it would be _him_ tonight. Bokushicchi. The stuff of nightmares. Today is really not Kise’s day.

 “Sorry, sorry, I was doing rounds at Club Mirror and there were some...pests I had to take care of~”  Kise raises his palms apologetically, hoping the boss isn’t in a prying mood tonight.

 Akashicchi raises his head, his mismatched eyes studying Kise carefully. Y I K E S.

 “Oh? Is there anything of concern you would like to share?”

 The back of Kise’s throat tenses,  still raw from Shougo-kun’s cock.

 “Hmmmmm~, the Silvers are getting problematic again, but they’re easily taken care of. Don’t you worry, Akashicchi~”  Kise replies breezily, matching Akashicchi’s gaze without wavering. He has no choice but to keep eye contact until--

 “So insolent,” Reo snaps suddenly, brushing a gloved hand protectively over Akashicchi’s shoulder.

 “You tramp, stop addressing Sei-chan so casually.”

 Reo is honestly the last person Kise needs lecturing him on over-familiarity with the boss, but Kise is still grateful for the interruption; Reo and Kurokocchi are about the only two people in this whole world that can soften the force of Akashicchi’s bone-chilling glares.

 With nothing to say in response, Kise just flashes the bodyguard a blatantly insincere smile.

 “Pfffff, you sure you can handle yourself, Kise?”

 The quip comes from Aominecchi, dark blue eyes narrowed teasingly as he speaks. He throws an arm over Kurokocchi’s shoulders and leans forward, baring his teeth as he grins, knowingly.

 “You seem pretty worn out. Don’t go falling apart on us.”

 Kise flinches, but manages to cover it up with another airy laugh.

 “Ahaha please, Aominecchi. I’m fine~”

 So fine, in fact, that he loses focus about five minutes into the meeting, Akashicchi’s low voice being drowned out by the sound of air wooshing between Kise’s ears as fresh, raw memories of the back alley flood his mind’s eye.

 Fine, fine, fine.

 ---

 Kise’s “fine” lasts about two weeks.

 Two weeks of managing assets, pushing deals, exchanging cups of sake, fake fake fake smiles and bone-crushing handshakes. No time to think about worthless things like the taste of Shougo-kun’s cock or the sound of Shougo-kun stifling back his voice or the hot sensation of his cu-

 “Come onnnnnn, this can’t be FUCkinnn happ’nin…”

Kise can heartily agree with this sentiment; this cannot be _fucking_ happening.

He was just on his way out after briefly checking in on the club, partly to deter any more hooliganism from the Silver gang, partly because of his foreboding inability to forget about a certain mad dog.

And WHAT does Kise find, lying, piss fucking drunk, sitting on the ground right outside the club?

“Shougo-kun…”

Kise pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs wearily. He’s not sure if he’s more annoyed with this petulant drunkard, or with himself for not being able to forget about said petulant drunkard for an entire fucking week.

“Ffffinally. I got a BONE…...mm? To pick with you, you bidge.”

Shougo-kun’s hair is a mess, eyes bleary and a little bruised, as if from lack of sleep. He’s clutching a presumably empty metal flask, his hands badly bloodied. Probably got into another accidental scrape, the dumbass.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Kise flicks his eyes to the side, nodding to the nearby bouncer that he’s got this under control.

“Just get up for now.”

Shougo-kun mumbles incoherently in response.

“Hmmm? What was that~ ?”

“..b...because of you ...it’s because of you ...I can’t get ...up..”

“Getting yourself into a drunken brawl is hardly my fault, Shougo-kun. Here, I’ll help you stand so just get the fuck out of here.”  Kise mutters, rolling his eyes as he proffers his hand down to Shougo-kuns level.

“NO!”

Kise startles as Shougo-kun frantically sits up, grabbing the front of Kise’s button up and pulling him down, closer to himself. He reeks of booze and tobacco and blood.

With slurring words and warm breath, he hisses next to Kise’s ear:

“I can’t get **IT** up.”

………………………………….eh?

“No matter what I do it just won’t …….and It’s all your fucking fault. So do something about it.”

Haizaki falters at the end and falls forward as gravity claims his unconscious body. His flops down into Kise’s chest and stays there, unmoving.

.”EH-WHA- Shoug-.............................................he passed out?”

Kise sits in shock for a moment, trying to parse how it came to be that he’s cradling none other than the district’s--no, the nation’s-- biggest problem child pain in the ass drunken debt collector in his arms.

As reality sinks back in again, every single fibre of Kise’s bitter being is telling him to just drag the passed-out Shougo-kun to the nearest park bench and leave him there to rot.

“Hey,” he starts, shifting his arms a little to try and pry Shougo-kun’s heavy body off of himself.

“Mmmmm” is the small, sleepy noise Shougo-kun makes in response to these efforts, before nuzzling his face closer into Kise’s chest.

………………

……………………………………………….

  
Eh? Huh ? wh  
  
Did Kise's heart just skip a beat? 

 

No way.....he's fine, after all

  
  
*****

Current tally

Ryouta: 2

Shougo-kun: 1

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want u all 2 know that without a doubt at the exact same time kise is having an internal crisis over zaki being kinda cute for the first time in his life, himuro is curled up in nijimura's lap like the >:3c kitty cat he is thank u for ur time


	4. Push and Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hhrrnnggghhh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did my best i hope u like it ;-;

Uggghhh hnnngggghhhhhh. The fuck….are Haizaki’s brains being pulled through a fuckin’ meat processor? Sure fuckin’ feels like it……shhhhhiiii…...

Shit. As if waking up to a brutal headache isn’t enough, every single muscle in Haizaki's violently hungover body is sore and aching. His dry throat isn't doing so hot either, and there's still that nasty aftertaste of liquor still lingering in his mouth.

  
He's lying on his side, his arms curled into his chest, hands resting hear his cheek. He can see his knuckles are all torn up, still sticky with blood, staining the white sheets beneath him.

...wait....sheets? Not cold, hard pavement?? Where the fuck is he...???

Haizaki blinks blearily, waits for the rattling pain in his skull die down enough to get a good look at his surroundings:

A bedroom... no, a hotel room. Not the fun kind either; this one's of the plain boring and beige variety. Cheap too, from the looks of it. Single bed, set up close to a window, blinds drawn. A digital clock resting on top of the little nightstand reads 04:04.

What is this ? Hell? Did Haizaki finally get a brain hemorrhage in a street fight and fuckin' die and get sent to this dull ass place?

Across the room, the entrance door whirs and clicks open. If this is Hell, then that's the devil.

Oh. No. Much worse.

"Oh, so you're aliv--...awake"

Haizaki rests his palms over his face and groans quietly. With some effort, he begins to hiss out a muffled question:

"What the h-"

"What the hell am I doing here? You seem to be asking that question a lot lately, Shougo-kun, even though you're the one that keeps coming to me," Kise Ryouta drawls sarcastically, stepping closer as the door locks shut behind him.

He swings a blue bottle of mineral water rhythmically as he steps closer to the bed.

"I'm assuming you don't remember getting trashed and passing out, bleeding in front of my bar.."

Haizaki indeed does not remember, but it sounds about right. Well, fuck. He's sure as shit not apologizing. If he said sorry every time he made a nuisance of himself, well...he wouldn't do that ever not even hypothetically. So...what the hell does Ryouta want?

“You must be thirsty~” Ryouta hums, hovering the water bottle over Haizaki.

Haizaki hesitates, glaring at Ryouta through his fingers. He’s not sure what this bastard’s angle is right now, but Haizaki’s REALLY not in a position to be starting shit. Yeeeeah, even he can see that much.

Reluctantly, Haizaki reaches his hand out. The tips of his fingers just barely brush against the bottle, when Ryouta snatches it away.

“Ahhhhh, that’s no good after all, Shougo-kun. If you need something, you should really ask for it in a cuter way~”

“FUCK YO - ughhhh” Haizaki tries to sit up fast, but the throbbing in his head isn’t having any of it. He lies back down, scowling.

This bastard isn’t seriously doing this right now, is he?

A pause ensues. Ryouta has his eyebrows raised, fingers tapping against the side of the bottle. He catches Haizaki glaring at him, and smiles slightly.

He really, really is doing this right now.

“.............................................................................................................................................pl………………………………………………………….………..ease..”

“Hmmm?? Sorry, could you speak up?”

This little bitch..

“PLEase. Give me the fucking bottle, please, Kise-sama.”

“Good boy.”

Haizaki flinches.

Ryouta smiles wider and tosses the bottle to Haizaki, who somehow manages to catch it with one hand. He forces himself to sit up, slowly this time, leaning on one arm for support. Haizaki downs the bottle about as fast as he can, his throat grateful, but his stomach sick from the effort.

He coughs after finishing the drink, tossing the empty bottle to the side.

“By the way,” he starts, voice still somewhat hoarse. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Where the fuck’s my shirt?”

Through the confusion of his surroundings, Haizaki hadn’t noticed until now exactly why his nipples have been getting colder with every passing second.

“Ehh, you don’t remember?”

“..why else would I be asking..”

“You bled out all over it. Or at least, someone bled out all over it, so I just threw it out.”

If Haizaki wasn’t fully aware of his position before, he’s painfully aware of it now: Sitting, half-naked, barely mobile on a hotel bed while Ryouta smugly stands there with his arms crossed over his chest…. .fucking troublesome. That’s way too much high ground for one golden little shit to hold over him.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find you something to wear on the way out.”

Haizaki closes his eyes for a moment, a dry laugh bubbling in the back of his throat.

“What is this, do you want me to thank you for your great kindness?” he sneers back at Ryouta, opening his eyes just a narrow sliver. The shooting pain in his head is dying down little by little, making it easier to bite back.

“Ehhh, it’s not such a bad feeling to have Shougo-kun owe me. Oh, not that I think a dog like you would have the honour to uphold something like that.”

Well, Haizaki can’t deny that.

“Besides, you were the one begging me to ‘take responsibility’ for your little,”

Ryouta’s gaze drops down to Haizaki’s crotch, rather emphatically.

“ ‘Dysfunction’”

Haizaki’s heart stops pumping blood for a fraction of a second.

“Right, Shougo-kun?”

Haizaki shifts his seated position to lean back on one hand and squints at Kise Ryouta for a moment. He’s not sure what kinda cards Ryouta thinks he’s holding over Haizaki, or even what kinda game he’s playing; however...

“Yeah,” Haizaki runs the tip of his tongue against the corner of his mouth, testing the waters.

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s all your fault anyways.”

Kise blinks, slightly taken aback. Not the answer he expected, judging by the surprise reflected in his golden cat-like eyes. That’s more like it.

“You’re really the same, drunk or sober. I guess I could call that a virtue…..?”

He sighs, flicks his gaze down to his wristwatch, then back at Haizaki. His tone softens just a touch:

“Sure.”

...Huh?

“...Huh?”

“Sure, I’ll take responsibility. I’ve been feeling pretty pent up lately myself.”

….HUH.

“What, you mean right now? It’s fucking 4 am?”

Ryouta shrugs, flicking his palm upwards with an infuriatingly nonchalant gesture.

“What? No good?”

“It’s NOT … good….”

“If that was just you running your mouth, I won’t force you. Here, I can leave right now.” Ryouta retreats, taking slow steps backwards with his palms raised in defeat, leaving the faint scent of his cologne in his wake.

“Just make sure to check out at the front desk when you’re done here.” Without pushing further, he finally turns to leave.

Now, Haizaki knows what the fuck THIS is. Being a shady and unscrupulous character himself, full to the brim with carnal desire, Haizaki can smell a fucking bluff right away.

But see, it just smells so goddamn good.

“Hmmmmm, Shougo-kun?”

Ryouta pauses. Or rather, he’s forced to pause, as Haizaki’s latched onto the cuff of his sleeve with his outstretched arm.

“I….”

Haizaki swallows something that feels suspiciously like pride.

“I can’t...let you just go…”

“..and why is that?”

…..

“I have no money….”

Nice one, Haizaki. Fuckin' believable. 

“....ahahaha, cute, Shougo-kun, you almost made that sound like it’s my problem~”

Still playing the “pull” card in this round of push-and-pull, huh?

Haizaki takes a deep breath, and with sheer force of will, yanks Ryouta’s arm and pulls him down. Two can pull at that game….ugh, nevermind.

Still gripping onto Ryouta, Haizaki flips over and straddles the yakuza against the bed, his breathing slightly laboured from the exertion. Leaning down a little more, just a little closer, Haizaki hisses:

“I can make it your problem.”

“Oh?”

Ryouta blinks up, pupils swallowing his golden irises. He licks his lower lip, his body relaxing under Haizaki. Ahhh, got him-

\--Or not. Without warning, Ryouta snatches his out from under Haizaki’s grip and wraps his arms around Haizaki’s chest. A sensation Haizaki is so unused to, he actually freezes.

This gives Ryouta ample opportunity to hug Haizaki closer and physically fucking lift him up, carrying him to the hotel bathroom. Haizaki, a grown ass man, being handled like a doll by this whole entire bitch!!!

To no one’s surprise, least of all Haizaki’s, Ryouta dumps him unceremoniously on the ground.

“Don’t get overexcited, Shougo-kun. First, I have to run by the convenience store, so you should probably take this time to clean all the filth off that you can ^_^” Ryouta waves the hotel key card lightly.

“Don’t tell me what to do” Haizaki snarls hoarsely, as he picks himself up and slams the door shut to do what he’s told.

Alone for the moment, Haizaki strips and briefly checks himself out in the bathroom mirror:

Light bruising all along his arms, a mostly-dried cut on his eyebrow, his hair an absolute goddamn nightmare. Kinda sexy, though.

By the time Haizaki runs through the essentials (take a dump, choke on complimentary mouthwash, scald his skin under unnecessarily hot water, reconsider this one-night-stand-from-hell),he can already hear the whir and click heralding the return of Ryouta.

Haizaki emerges from the steam of the bathroom clad in nothing but arrogance and a white towel wrapped around his waist.

Ryouta, almost definitely smirking, rustles through the rather full plastic bag dangling off his wrist, and pulls from it a sports drink.

Haizaki eyes the bag but doesn’t comment, accepting the bottle (and this time, Ryouta doesn’t make him fucking beg for it) to take a few long swigs and replenish his trashed body with electrolytes or whatever the fuck.

“You just gonna stand there and stare?” he growls, tossing the half-empty bottle back to Ryouta.

“Would you LIKE me to join you?”

Haizaki frowns. Doing this ...uhhh… “business” with Ryouta is his only plausible path for revenge, plus it’ll take care of his libido, that’s two birds one stone. But this golden boy just won’t stop taking the lead for the pace, and Haizaki doesn’t care for that.

“Whatever, just strip”

Ryouta obliges with a light, almost inaudible laugh, popping off each button of his shirt without even looking at them. He peels off the white fabric to reveal a pale, well built body. No tattoos, huh. Interesting.

As soon as the shirt slips off of Ryouta’s shoulders, Haizaki places a firm hand on Ryouta’s nape and pulls him in, as if to make for a kiss.

“Just to be clear….…….......I don’t like you.”

“Ohhh, Shougo-kun, I dislike you too. So this should work just fine~.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is gonna be a whole lot of sauce i can tell u that much. thank u so much for ur patience and support!!!

**Author's Note:**

> (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.
> 
> *wonks at you* helo can i interest u in some please write a comment and tell me your feelings i'll die for u


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